


Sleepless nights, sweet dreams

by fusrodie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Married Life, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 13:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5128748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fusrodie/pseuds/fusrodie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Trevelyan and Cassandra are proud parents who can’t stop staring at their little one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless nights, sweet dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt sent on Tumblr. "Have you slept?"

He had always been good with words, or so his mother told him. Whereas his older brother had taken too long to speak, he had been the fastest child, the one who had started cussing at age five, had learned Orlesian before he was fifteen, and had talked more maids out of their pants than he could count. His sister used to say he loved the sound of his own voice, but his brother disagreed: an opportunist, that’s what he was, a trickster. Words had always been his greatest weapon, and he was always caught off guard, left panicked, when they failed him.

The first time it had happened, he was still a young lad. His heart had been broken by a servant girl, an elven lady with whom he’d had a brief affair, and whom he considered his first love. She was practical, down-to-earth, aware of the troubles of this world and too mature for his fantasies and silly plans. He hadn’t known what to say then, and had walked out with his head down, wiping away his tears. Life had hardened him plenty when the second time came around; he no longer fell in love. He thought himself prepared for anything, but the situation had taken him by surprise – he remembered running, waking up in a dark room surrounded by armed soldiers, with a stern-looking woman interrogating him, her stance intimidating despite her being distraught, voice almost breaking. He didn’t know what to say, confused, afraid, the tip of the blade against his back making it difficult to think.

Cassandra had a way of making him speechless, he realized months later. No more interrogations had happened since their meeting in Haven, at least not the scary kind, but it did not mean there were no surprises. She had been hesitant to accept his courting, and it had made him hesitant in turn, afraid of making a mistake, offending the woman he admired so much. But she had been  _open_  and  _accepting_ , had taken the initiative after she was sure of his intentions, and from that point on time and again she had caught him off guard.

First it was heartbreak, then fear, passion came soon after and finally it was love that struck him dumb. Yet he knew this time it was something else entirely, or perhaps it all mixed together – he could not move, fingers gripping wood, smile stuck as if it had been carved. He did not know for how long he had been there, standing next to the window, between the crib and the nightstand, but he was sure it hadn’t been enough. His daughter slept soundly, fingers tangled in her hair, a stuffed bear tucked under her other arm. It had been a gift from Sera, and Cassandra had thoroughly disapproved of it, but their daughter had other plans, and it had become her favorite toy.

She was spirited, despite her young age: frowned in her sleep just like mother did, gripped fingers, locks of hair and earlobes with more force than he imagined possible. She seemed to appreciate the noisy clattering of swords whenever her mother took her along to oversee training sessions, curious eyes scanning the yard, a tiny smile that made her cheeks look puffier than usual. After the first time, Cassandra had come back speaking of commissioning Dagna for baby-sized armor, or at the very least a more comfortable garment with similar design she could wear when she was a bit older (the ornamental hearts were essential). Josephine had disclosed to him she had a coat made for their daughter’s second birthday, modeled after her mother’s, but he hadn’t breathed a word about it.

Sometimes it seemed to him like she had come out a miniature of her mother, black hair that curled at the tips, skin that shone bronze under the sunlight, the same perfectly shaped lips Cassandra had. But she had his eyes, and inherited his talent for running his mouth, it seemed. She had started talking around the same time she took her first steps, and though Cassandra vouched her first word had been “mama”, he still insisted it had been “papa”, and the two settled for “no” after a particularly intriguing (and amusing) incident that had made his brother ignore him for months.

A year had gone by too fast. A year of sleepless nights, infinite worrying and back pains from napping in the armchair next to his daughter’s crib. A year in which he had discovered there were no words to describe how much he loved them both, and the thought made him emotional, thankful for the blessings the Maker had granted him. His relationship with Cassandra felt stronger than ever, his insecurities long gone. Though they had been together for almost four years, the first two of their marriage had worried him greatly. More than once a friend had come to give him  _advice_ , tell him about their own ruined love lives and how the romance had vanished after they’d settled down. He did not doubt his feelings, however, nor hers, but feared she would one day discover married life was not what she had wished for, that he was not the husband she had waited for so long. Silly, he was; silly, she called him, until she had kissed his doubts away.

“Have you slept?” Cassandra’s voice came from somewhere behind him, and he turned around to see her standing beside the door, his coat draped over her shoulders to keep the cold at bay. The cabin had always been drafty at night, and snuggling under the covers was a moment he cherished deeply.

“No,” he confessed, and the disapproving noise she let out made him laugh. “I was worried she might be cold,” he added, but whether it was an explanation or an apology, it made no difference to him. He had come to check on her shortly after Cassandra fell asleep, and the sight had enraptured him. Her breathing was steady, and she looked warm enough under the blankets, not having moved an inch since they came to put her to sleep. Her chubby fingers sometimes flexed and she would coo in her sleep, and he would give anything to know what it was she dreamed about.

The journey had been exhausting and his whole body ached, but it all seemed unimportant now. Cassandra came closer until they were side by side, and he pulled her into an embrace, her arm snaking around his back, hand resting on his hip. She planted a kiss on his lips before resting her head against his shoulder and joining him in his contemplation, letting out a sigh of contentment. “I love you, silly husband,” she said, her voice but a whisper. “I love you both.”

_I love you, too_ , he wanted to answer, but the words never reached his lips. His tears washed them away, and for once he kept quiet, brought her closer, kissed her forehead and caressed the little one’s cheek. She shifted in her sleep, as if protesting the intrusion, unaware of the teary eyed parents chuckling by her bedside. “So do I, wife of mine” he finally said, his smile growing bigger, for he never tired of saying it,  _wife_ , and she never tired of hearing it. He was not one for empty promises, but he knew this to be true: “Maker knows I’ll love you forever.”

Despite the torment and sacrifices, the crying and the fighting, he would not change it. Here, in the lonely cabin where it all started, he felt complete, wife and child, golden band on his ring finger, a peaceful world where their daughter could grow and make them proud, live her life to the fullest. Despite the sleepless nights he had gone through and the ones still to come, it felt as if he was living the sweetest dream.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd been procrastinating for quite a while with this one. But then I saw some amazing artwork of Trevelyan, Cassandra and baby Trevelyan and it sort of pushed me into it. Seeing as it's a prompt, I didn't intend to post it here but, why not? I hope you like it and thank you for reading!


End file.
